


Borrowing Strength

by orderlychaos



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Hugs, M/M, Phil really needs a hug, Spoilers for AoS 1x11, angsty fluff, mentions of Skye
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-08 02:05:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1127108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orderlychaos/pseuds/orderlychaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spoilers for 1x11</p><p>A coda for the end of the episode, because Phil really needs a hug.</p><p>(Written for a prompt on tumblr)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Borrowing Strength

**Author's Note:**

> For lapillus, who wanted a C/C bear hug. Cross posted on tumblr [here](http://chaosisorderly.tumblr.com/post/72725816021/c-c-10-bear-hug) .
> 
> This turned out a bit more angsty than I intended :-/

Phil kept the smile fixed on his face until Skye nodded and turned away, her dark eyes bright with tears and sympathy.  For a moment, Phil wanted to call her back and tell her he _wasn’t_ fine and he might never be fine again, but he resisted the urge.  Phil had been a senior SHIELD agent and team leader long enough that the instinct to always appear in control -- even when he really wasn’t -- was too deeply ingrained.  He also didn’t want to burden Skye with the truth of what he’d seen under the influence of the machine.  She’d had enough heartbreak in her life recently that Phil was willing to pretend he was fine to protect her from more of it.

Sighing, Phil closed his eyes for a brief second.  He knew Nick had good reasons for bringing Phil back to life, however it had been done -- and for lying to Phil about it.  Nick Fury was his best friend and one of the best men Phil had ever met, but that didn’t stop Phil from feeling lost and hurt at the way Nick had kept the truth from him.  That, however, was a problem for another day, because Phil wasn’t sure he was strong enough to deal with that right now.

Blinking his eyes open when he heard someone shouting his name, Phil turned to look down the Bus’ still open ramp.  A second later, he recognised the familiar pattern of combat boots approaching at a sprint and then the sound of a duffle bag hitting the metal ramp.  Phil barely had time to let out a shuddering breath before Clint Barton crashed into him, Clint’s strong arms winding around Phil’s waist.  He knew his grip was too tight, but Phil was unable to do anything but hold on.  He hadn’t realised exactly _how much_ he’d missed Clint and his steady, reassuring presence until right that moment.  Vaguely, Phil was aware of the questions and confusion coming from Skye and Fitzsimmons behind him, but all he could concentrate on was Clint’s solid warmth wrapped around him.  Squeezing his eyes shut, Phil buried his face in the space between Clint’s shoulder and neck, and tried to remember how to breathe.

“Jesus, Phil,” Clint said, his voice thick.  “You scared me.”  He let out a shaky breath.  “I thought we talked about you not doing that again?”

“Sorry,” Phil whispered back, his lips brushing the skin of Clint’s neck.  “I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry.”

Clint shuddered, his arms tightening around Phil.  He cursed softly, his words a rough-sounding mixture of English and Russian.  “You’re safe, Phil.  I’ve got you,” he murmured.  “I’ve got you.”

Phil felt tears pricking his eyes, but he couldn’t break down here, not where his team could see him.  Somehow, Phil found the strength to open his eyes and take a step back from Clint, even though he would have preferred to stay wrapped in Clint’s warm embrace forever.  “I…” he started, before he cleared his throat.  “Let’s go to my office and talk.”

Clint’s beautiful, multi-coloured eyes searched his for a moment, Clint’s hand catching his and tangling their fingers together.  “You know, whatever it is, we’ll find a way to fix it, right?” Clint said quietly.

Glancing away, Phil sucked in another shuddering breath.  “What if this is something that can’t be fixed?” he asked, raising his eyes to Clint’s again.

For a moment, pain and understanding flashed through Clint’s gaze, the ghost of a wry smile curving his mouth.  Tugging Phil close again, Clint rested his forehead gently against Phil’s.  “Then we find a way to deal with it,” Clint said and Phil clung to the determination and certainty in Clint’s voice.  “Just like we figured out who to deal with the shit-storm of Loki and us being halfway around the world from each other more often than not and all the other crap that’s happened to us over the years.”  Clint pulled away enough to cup Phil’s face with a calloused palm, his thumb stroking along Phil’s cheekbone.  “I love you, Phil,” he said, his eyes reflecting the utter truth of his words, “and I’m not giving up on you.   _Ever_.”

Phil nodded, taking a deep breath and borrowing strength from his husband.  Slowly, it felt like his lungs could finally expand, the steel band that had been squeezing them slipping away.  Learning how to deal with what had happened to him and the reasons behind his survival would be difficult -- just like Clint’s recovery from Loki’s mind control had been and still was -- but Phil suddenly didn’t feel so alone anymore.  “I love you too, you know,” he told Clint.

“Yeah,” Clint said with a soft smile, some of the tension easing from his shoulders.  “I know.”

 

Fin.


End file.
